It’s difficult to describe the feeling one experiences waking up to a huge one on top of your nose on the day of an important date. You look like a rhino.But you have to go on that date. From her Facebook and Instagram pictures, she is not the kind of lady you can text “sorry I won’t make it, there’s this pimple I have to attend to.” So you must gather yourself and bravely go off for the all-important meetup.
Her name is Martha. Something tells you that she is out of your league. The chances of you landing in a friend zone are high but you are optimistic because a couple of things are working in your favor. You’ve secured a better job, moved to a bigger house in a better neighborhood befitting a man of your status and generally, things are looking good for you (except for that pimple of course).
You have this gut-feeling that Martha is the one. You first met on Facebook.You found her posts touching. Her pictures moved you to act, so you sent her a message. And you got a reply. You asked for her number and she complied. She even included her email address just for good measure.
After that, you late night conversations and resolved to meet. One thing led to another and here you are seated at the balcony of a restaurant in Nairobi. She’s informed and educated. You learn that she’s an I.T specialist working with a telecommunication company in Nairobi. You two talk about a lot, from geopolitics to Aristotle’s philosophies. Not only is she beautiful but smart as well. You’ve dated half the universe and have never encountered such a gem. You play your cards well and by the end of the night, you are an official item.
For the past two years, your folks have been on your neck telling you to settle down. Leading the onslaught is your mother. Whenever you call her, she always insists on speaking to her “daughter”. And your reply is always the same, “kuwa mpole mum, God’s time is the best.” You are not that religious but to win an argument with your mother, you mention God. She’s mama kanisa at the church in the village.
Every time you visit the village, your mother tries to play matchmaker. Her position in the church means that she has access to all the unmarried daughters of Christ in the village. Once, she tried to hook you up with Magdalena, a prayer warrior. Her looks are satisfactory but the same grace could not be extended to her sense of style. She dresses like your mother. So naturally, you graciously said no. After all, you already have a mother and do not need another. And besides, what will your boys say when they get word that your mother was instrumental in getting you a wife?
6 months after first meeting Martha, the relationship is close to perfect. You have never been this happy before and neither has she. According to you, Martha will fit seamlessly into your family. So you decide to take the relationship to the next level, for fear of losing her to another man.
You conspire a plan to propose. She thought it was just another road trip but you had other ideas. Enashipai Resort is your place of choice, a bit expensive but you can now afford it. You’ve risen up the ranks in your organization and you now have the ear of the CEO so money is not a problem. You pop the question. Of all the possible answers, she says yes. The day’s event is captured by a photographer who’s images will be shared on social media. You intend to share the news promptly.
Martha is the first to upload the engagement pictures on her pages accompanied by a million hashtags. You follow suit and upload and tag her. The comments section is buzzing with congratulations messages. However, one comment grabs your attention. The message from your cousin Stella reads, “Martha is Aunt Elizabeth’s eldest daughter, just thought you should know.”
This article was written by Capital Campus Correspondent Collins Pasi.